


No Mercy, Only Violence

by jatty



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Delusions, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Instability, Stalking, Strangulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3948433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jatty/pseuds/jatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard has been following his boyfriend Frank from a distance for close to a year, forgiving all of his indiscretions--cheating, avoiding him, generally being rude--until today.</p>
<p>Today, Frank has taken his disrespect too far and Gerard has no choice but to put him back in his place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Mercy, Only Violence

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing but filthy smut and sadism, remnant of my classic one-shots.

_No Mercy, Only Violence_

Gerard had been watching him for over a year—four hundred and eight-five days, to be exact. Every time he saw him, he snapped a polaroid and tacked it to the wall of his bedroom. He had photos of him at work, crossing the street, eating lunch and dinner (even breakfast a couple times). Snapshots of him getting coffee before work, images of him walking a pair of fat, little dogs. There were a few photos of him at a bar, touching and snuggling up to another man, but Gerard tacked them toward the bottom of his display—not wanting to be faced with them every morning upon awakening. 

No, his favorite picture to see in the morning was kept on his nightstand in a frame. It was a glorious snapshot he’d taken with his cell phone the day he dared enter the guitar store where the man worked. He had him smiling, in his black t-shirt and red store vest—his little nametag, Frank it said, on the right side at an odd angle—his long hair pushed back away from his face. That smile, in real time, had disappeared immediately after Gerard took the photo. 

He’d said something rude, but Gerard could understand. The pretty picture was worth a poor first impression. 

For days, Gerard had sat at home and analyzed the picture—having it printed out on glossy paper and framed before it could be smudged—taking in the little lines on Frank’s face that he got from smiling. He had such greasy, messy hair, clumped up in places with natural oils. 

The very sight of it was enough to make Gerard ache with lust. 

It took him a few days to work up the courage to hunt Frank out again, but he kept his distance, snapping his photos through the store window from across the street so Frank wouldn’t see him. He’d never intended for it to get this far, but his wall was full of photographs and the blurry, hazy ones through the store window weren’t good enough—especially since there were often customers in the way. 

He started following Frank after work, then following him to work. Following him to the grocery store and the gas station… Gerard even tried following him into the City once, but he lost him in the subway station. 

Gerard had been angry at Frank after that. How could he let Gerard trail him so far only to shake him at that point? He’d looked _right at him_ on the subway car and then disappeared into the station, giving Gerard no clues as to which direction he’d run.

The next day, Frank wasn’t at work and that made Gerard even angrier. It was two months into their relationship and Gerard had never known Frank to disappear like that… He’d been angry out of worry and fear. The City was such a dangerous place. Even if Frank was covered head to toe in tattoos, he was still short and easy pickings for any thugs he might come across.

What was he thinking running through the city alone?

He was gone a whole three days even though he’d only had a messenger bag with him in the city. When Gerard saw him again, it was at the café and there was another man with him. 

Gerard tried following that other man, but quickly lost interest. There was no way he could intimidate the man into going away without him telling Frank, and if Frank saw him as overprotective, he might not want to see Gerard again…even from a distance. 

When Christmas time had come, Gerard left a gift for Frank outside of his apartment. He watched from around the corner, but Frank took the package inside so Gerard didn’t get to see his face when he opened it. He’d made Frank his very own series of comics—a small series, just three books—about their future life together (with some superhero stuff mixed in because pure romance had never been his thing).

He’d hoped Frank would read them at the store between his duties helping customers, but he never did. It made him angry that Frank didn’t seem to appreciate his gift… He didn’t even leave Gerard one in return. In fact, after that day he changed where he went for coffee and stopped going to the local deli for his lunch salads…

It was a real Hell finding his new shops, but Gerard managed to track him down again. It irritated him that that was his reward for the gift he’d so carefully prepared for his Darling, but Frank made it up to him.

After a public fight in a bar on New Year’s Eve, Frank broke things off with his lover and that was enough of a gift for Gerard not to take revenge. 

For so long, Gerard watched him from a safe distance, writing him the occasional letter and sliding it under his apartment door, but he never got a reply. 

Not until _today_ at least. And today he’d not gotten the reply he’d wanted. Not. At. All.

He’d written Frank a letter complimenting his new tattoo. Gerard had seen Frank in the café that morning when usually Frank wouldn’t be there, and followed him the parlor. He took a couple photos through the window before a man—not the one tattooing his Frankie—came out and chased him away. Unable to just leave the letter at ‘your new body art is just as stunning as all the ones I’ve seen before. I can’t wait for the day you trust me enough to let me see the rest. Knowing you like I do, I’m certain you have more in places you don’t even show your closest friends,’ Gerard added on how the rest of Frank’s body was beautiful as well. 

Especially his long hair. 

His long hair, always appearing stringy and greasy—so sexy and begging to be pulled—looked so stunning now that it was starting to grace his shoulders. He’d trimmed it in the spring, but it was growing back in thick curls now. Gerard loved it, and he told Frank so. He drew him a couple comic strips to go along with it, then stuffed the envelope under the door to his apartment when he knew Frank to be at work.

He wanted his Honey to come home to a nice letter after a rough night at the guitar store. 

_Today,_ however, Frank was _not_ going to be given anything nice. No. _Today,_ Frank deserved to be punished and to have that dumb grin wiped clean off his face.

_Today,_ Gerard took up roost outside of the guitar store and saw something so _disgusting_ he could not get it out of his mind—not even after he walked a lap around the block.

His precious hair—his _pretty,_ long, beautiful fucking _hair!_ —had been cut off. He had cut the sides short and instead of having his whole beautiful face on display, he had bangs obscuring half of it. 

It was no coincidence he’d cut his hair after receiving the letter. He did it to be an asshole. He did it to be a brat—and brats. got. _punished._

Knowing Frank’s shift would last another four hours, Gerard went home—half out of an attempt to calm down before he did something he might regret, and half to prepare for tonight. He’d been planning to move Frankie in with him for months, but he wasn’t ready yet. He had some things, but not nearly enough…

It didn’t matter though. He’d have to make do with what he had. Frank couldn’t get away with defiling his body like that. Tattoos were fine—tattoos were hot—but he did _not_ have the right to mask his face with the hair that was no longer greasy and screaming to be pulled. 

( ) ( ) ( )

It was dark when Frank got off work, making it easier for Gerard to follow him down the street after he locked up his precious store. Gerard walked a block behind him until he reached the kill-zone, an alley between two tall apartment buildings. As soon as Frank neared the alley, Gerard bolted after him, closing the distance between them rapidly.

Hearing his footsteps, Frank whipped around with a fist already cocked back—expecting a mugger and ready to fight—only it wasn’t Frank’s wallet Gerard was after. He didn’t give Frank the time to throw a punch. He tackled him to the ground, delighting in the sound of Frank’s precious head slamming into the concrete sidewalk.

Frank moaned in pain, then started thrashing and spewing out curses. Gerard sat up, putting all of his weight on Frank’s chest, and then started smacking him across the mouth to shut him up—slapping, not punching. A punch could make him loose teeth or break the pretty bones of his perfect face. Gerard didn’t want to fuck up his pretty face, but he did want him to shut his lying, cheating, deceptive, spiteful mouth.

It didn’t shut him up though. Frank kept hissing and growling, and he even started to claw at Gerard’s hands. 

“What the fuck—is your problem—fucking asshole!” Frank screamed between blows to his face. He screamed when Gerard finally drew blood from his lip—cutting it on Frank’s white teeth. “Get off me—you fucking freak!”

That was the last straw for Gerard. He was going to be merciful—just punish him and give him a talking-to about his hair—but now, now that Frank was going to call him a _freak_ when Frank was the one who lured him in with that touch on his arm the first day they met, Gerard was going to make him pay for all of it. Frank would pay for ignoring him, hiding from him, taking lovers, not giving him a real Christmas present, and—of course—for cutting off his beautiful fucking hair.

Gerard fisted his hands in the collar of Frank’s shirt and stood up, awkwardly stepping over Frank’s body and dragging him into the alley. Frank resisted, writhing and twisting in Gerard’s grasp and clawing at his hands, and Gerard could only get him a few feet into the shadows before he had to let go with one hand and return to slapping Frank’s mouth to get him to stop clawing and trying to throw punches. 

The slaps disoriented him enough for Gerard to move his other hand from the collar of his shirt to his neck—grasping it and immediately squeezing hard until all of Frank’s protests were cut off. In the shadowy, orange glow from the distant streetlamp, Gerard was able to see Frank’s eyes go wide. 

Frank immediately stopped throwing his fists around and started clawing at Gerard’s hand instead, only able to make a sick, gurgling sound as Gerard’s other hand wrapped around his neck as well, applying even more pressure as Frank’s whole body thrashed uselessly beneath him.

“You’re going to _pay_ for what you did to me,” Gerard hissed. “Lead me on. Run from me. Cut your _fucking_ hair.” He emphasized every offense by shaking Frank by his neck. He watched as Frank’s eyes filled with recognition. Yes, he realized now how much trouble he was in. 

Finally, Frank’s hands went from frantically clawing to merely clutching at Gerard’s wrists. Just as he looked ready to lose consciousness, Gerard relinquished his crushing grasp and slapped Frank one last time across the mouth before _really_ setting to work. 

Frank, happy just to have air again, started coughing and wheezing, trying to roll onto his side by barely resisting when Gerard kept his hips pressed down against the pavement. 

He’d wanted to have Frank this close for so long, and he was now going to have to turn their romance into a lesson learned. It was a shame, but Frank deserved it. He didn’t deserve any pleasure, just pain. He unhooked Frank’s belt and pulled it free of the loops of his jeans. He folded the belt over as many times as he could and then stuffed it into Frank’s mouth—metal and all—and then slapped him once again for good measure.

Frank screamed then—a real scream—as he realized he wasn’t about to be let go any time soon. Before he could react, though, Gerard flipped him over onto his front and pinned him by sitting on the smaller man’s thighs while he took off his own belt. 

He grabbed one of Frank’s wrists easily and pinned it behind his back, but once Frank realized what he was doing, he started thrashing around and spat the belt back out of his mouth to scream again. 

“Get off me! You fucking psycho! Let me go!”

Gerard hissed and reached forward to grab a fistful of Frank’s long bangs.

“Shut up,” Gerard hissed.

“Let me go!” Frank screamed—his voice only slightly laced with fear. 

That wasn’t good enough. Gerard wanted him afraid more than he wanted him hurt, but Frank refused to scream in fear. He screamed in rage and hostility. That just wasn’t good enough. He needed to know to think twice before doing anything toward Gerard out of spite again. 

“You shut your mouth,” Gerard seethed, yanking Frank’s head back by his hair and then slamming his head down onto the ground with a loud crack.

Frank let out a shrill sound, then started cursing again so Gerard pulled his head back only to slam it down again—harder. Frank’s entire body spasmed with the force of the blow and then lie limp. He would’ve thought he’d knock Frank out if not for the way he started whimpering and shaking. 

Gerard seized the opportunity to snare Frank’s other wrist and pin it behind his back. He looked his belt around both of them and pulled it tight, knotting it so Frank’s hands were bound—unable to scratch or punch him now. 

Frank still hadn’t moved when Gerard pulled away to kneel over him instead of sit on him. He rolled Frank over onto his back again, delighting in the way Frank cried out as his hands were pinned under his back against the rough pavement. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Frank whimpered as Gerard moved to sit on his abdomen, making sure his hands were ground even harder into the ground. Frank played guitar to make himself happy—Gerard wanted him to know that he was not above crushing his hands and ruining his favorite pastime to get his point across. 

“Me? What the hell is wrong with _you!?_ I write you a letter, spilling my _heart out_ about how _good you look_ with your long, goddamned _hair!_ Then you go behind my back and fucking cut it _off!_ Just to spite me!”

“Jesus Christ, it’s my fucking hair!” Frank screamed. 

“It may be on your fucking head, but it _belongs_ to me!” Gerard yelled, slapping Frank across the mouth again, warm blood spattering on his and. He noticed, in the lamplight, that Frank’s left temple was covered in blood from being smashed against the ground, a little, shiny puddle forming next to his ear on the ground. 

Before Frank could say anymore, Gerard grabbed the belt again and stuffed it back into Frank’s mouth, smacking his full, puffy cheek a few times in mock affection before leaning and smirking down at his captive. 

“You’re going to pay for what you did, and you’re going to take it like a man, Frank. You and I both know you deserve this—so _don’t._ fight. me.”

Frank started squirming around again, letting out animalistic groans as the skin of his bound hands grated against the pavement. Gerard smirked down at him as he moved to sit on Frank’s thighs, quickly grabbing the button of jeans and unsnapping it. 

Renewed fear shot through Frank’s eyes then—realizing he wasn’t about to be just beaten and left behind. Gerard cackled at the sight and moaned at the sound of terror Frank let out when Gerard pulled down his zipper and parted the front of his prey’s jeans. 

“Don’t worry,” he said as Frank started jerking around underneath him—arching his back feebly and trying to spit the belt out of his mouth again so he could scream. “I won’t make it feel good for you.”

“Let me go—just let me go!” Frank started stammering.

“Oh? Where’s all your tough talk, huh?” Gerard asked, hooking his fingers in the waistband of Frank’s boxers and running his fingers back and forth across Frank’s abdomen—pleasure coursing through him as he felt Frank’s muscles rippled under his touch. 

“What the fuck!? Don’t!—Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Oh, there it is,” Gerard said, taking one of his hands away from Frank’s clothes in order to smack him again. 

“Stop it! You fucking psycho!” 

Gerard smacked him again and then yanked down the front of Frank’s underwear and jeans, exposing his limp cock to the cool, night air. As soon as he was exposed, Frank started thrashing harder, trying to tilt his hips and knock Gerard from his perch on his thighs. It didn’t work—Gerard’s weight easily keeping him pinned. All he succeeded in doing was tearing up the flesh of his hands, hurting himself of Gerard’s behalf. 

“What do you want from me!?” Frank screamed.

“You need to quit screaming,” Gerard hissed, smacking Frank’s mouth again. “You’re going to make someone interfere with _our business.”_ His palm was already covered in a sheen of bright red blood, making bloody handprints on Frank’s left cheek. 

“Get off me! I don’t want anything to do with your fucking _business!_ Fuck!” 

Gerard smacked him hard across his right cheek, knocking his head to the side, and then slapping him on the left cheek—sending his head reeling back in the other direction. Gerard did this three more times until finally, _finally_ he extracted a noise other than a shriek or scream from his captive—a sob. 

Frank turned his head to side and laid still, cowering in fear of the next blow. He thrashed a bit when Gerard backed off of him, but didn’t get the chance to escape before Gerard had flipped him onto his front and pulled his jeans down his hips to bare his ass and thighs. 

Frank squeaked in mixed pain and fear as his exposed groin was mashed into the rough pavement.

“What do you want from me?” The man whimpered, trying desperately to raise his hips off the ground. Gerard slapped his ass painfully every time he tried, wishing he’d used Frank’s belt to bind his hands since he obviously wasn’t going to keep it in his mouth as a gag, and then used his to deliver a punishment to Frank’s vulnerable flesh.

But he would have time to do that later. 

“What do you want from me!?” Frank screamed when Gerard moved to sit on his ass, forcing his groin to mash against the coarse ground. Gerard didn’t dignify the stupid question with a response. It was quite obvious what he wanted. “Goddamnit! I sell guitars!—I can pay you money!”

“I don’t want your fucking money! I want you to respect me!”

“I don’t even _know_ you!” Frank protested, his voice shrill. He started squirming again, but with hardly any conviction, unwilling to hurt his sensitive flesh in order to get away. That told Gerard right away that Frank knew he was trapped—he knew there was no escape. 

“That’s bullshit! That’s straight up _bullshit,_ and you know it!” Angered that Frank had the nerve to deny knowing him after how hard he’d worked to stay apart of Frank’s life over the past year, Gerard fisted is hand in Frank’s hair again.

“No—God, no don’t! Don’t!” Frank pleaded, knowing already what was going to happen as his head was pulled back. “Please! Don’t—please!”

But his begging was futile and Gerard smashed his skull down on the pavement three times as hard as he could. With the last blow, Frank’s will seemed to break and he had started sobbing. He was no longer speaking protests, just whimpering out sad, drawn-out noises in his pain. 

Gerard took the change to grab the cloth belt back off the ground and stuffed it into Frank’s mouth. Frank didn’t even fight him—he seemed to even open his jaw to allow for the cloth and metal to be let inside. 

“Keep it in your mouth or you’ll get it another time,” Gerard hissed, fisting his hand in Frank’s hair and lifting his head up a few inches from the ground. 

Right away, Frank started squealing in fear and leaned his head up against Gerard’s hand, doing anything in his power to avoid being smashed back down into the ground.

Instead of slamming his head into the ground again, Gerard merely let go—allowing Frank to drop his head to the ground slowly while whimpering in fear and relief. 

Gerard reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a packet of lube. When Frank heard the sound, he started panting loudly, moaning around the belt in his mouth. 

Gerard backed off of him and pulled his hips forcedly up from the ground. Frank tried hard to fight him, knowing what was about to happen, but Gerard just grabbed his hair and smashed his face down one more time and Frank’s will broke. He laid still apart from his body’s natural trembling and his hands as they twitched and twisted feebly against the belt binding them. 

“You’re gonna learn your fuckin’ place, and if you fight me…you’ll learn,” Gerard seethed, pouring the lube onto his fingertips and slipping them between Frank’s cheeks. The smaller man’s whole body stiffened and he started grunting into the gag. He tensed his hole against the pressure of Gerard’s feelings, only making it that much worse when Gerard slipped two inside of him at once. 

Frank started writhing again, acting as if to spit out the gag in his mouth. As soon as he realized that was what Frank was striving to do, Gerard decided to make it happen—just so he could smash his face again and show him he wasn’t kidding around. He spread his fingers wide, extracting a shrill scream from Frank, and moved them in and out as fast as he could.

“S-Stop it!” Frank screamed, his voice muffled as half of the belt had unspooled from his mouth. “Stop! Please—just stop!”

Gerard pulled his fingers out so he could grab Frank’s hair.

“No! N-No, don’t! Please!” But Frank’s protests were wasted. Gerard smacked his skull into the ground again—his pleasure dissipating, however, when Frank’s whole body went limp. 

“Shit.” Gerard pulled away and flipped Frank over onto his back, but the man’s head lolled back and forth with every motion. The entire left side of his face was covered in blood—his beauty marred. Gerard didn’t like that. He wanted his Frankie to still look something like the man he’d fallen in love with them this whole ordeal was over. 

Even though Frank was unconscious, Gerard returned to his work, thrusting his fingers back inside to spread more of the lube around. He wished he had the nerve to fuck Frank dry and really teach him a lesson, but he didn’t so much like the idea of ripping his own dick apart in the process. He deserved pleasure after what Frank had put him through.

He managed to get three fingers inside with a third of the packet of lube left. Frank was starting to make sad, low noises as Gerard undid the front of his own jeans, about to wake up to a living hell. Gerard slicked himself up with the remaining lube and pressed the head of his cock against Frank’s opening. 

He waited until he heard Frank start gasping for breaths, panicking as he came to, and then pushed his way inside—making sure to take as long as he could. 

Frank tried screaming, but his voice became strangled and he started gurgling and hyperventilating. His whole body started writhing and trembling—sweat beginning to soak through the back of his work shirt and little red vest. 

Once Gerard was all the way inside, he paused to relish in the sensation. Frank’s body kept tightening around him in an attempt to force him out while the small man moaned in pain. He’d dreamed for so long how it might feel to become one with his Darling, but he’d never imagined it would feel quite like this.

He wished it didn’t have to be with Frank in pain, but the man had given him no choice. He made it so obvious that there was no other way to have him. 

Frank’s little whimpers were starting to sound like words as Gerard began pulling out. They were more pleas for Gerard to stop, but he was smart and kept his voice low so as to avoid having his head bashed in again. 

They didn’t stay quiet, however. When Gerard pushed back inside, he simultaneously raked his hands down Frank’s spine, loving how it made Frank roll his hips. 

“Do that for me again, Baby, and tell me you like it,” Gerard moaned. Maybe right now he couldn’t have Frank willingly, but he could pretend.

“D-Don’t do this,” Frank cried instead. 

Gerard growled and gripped Frank’s hips, thrusting as hard and as fast as he could until Frank’s shuddery, pained breaths turned to shrieks of sheer agony.

“Keep screaming and you know what happens,” Gerard barked. 

Frank screamed one final time before collapsing into sobs again, pulling feebly at his bindings as Gerard continued to crush his will one brutal thrust at a time. Words started coming through the sobs, Frank pathetically trying to say something through his sharp breaths and hiccups. 

“I-I just—I just s-sell guitars,” he cried. “I-I don’t even m-make much m-money.”

“You make enough to get a five dollar coffee every morning—venti soy latte, hazelnut and cinnamon,” Gerard said, pulling out to the tip and pushing back in again slowly, dragging out Frank’s torment. “Enough to pay for fucking haircuts.” He slapped Frank’s ass for emphasis. “Now roll your fucking hips,” he said, slapping his ass over and over until Frank squirmed to get away. He couldn’t go anywhere so he ended up doing as Gerard wanted, rolling his hips. 

“I-I just wanted my own store,” Frank whimpered, sniffing loudly as he cried. “J-Just wanted to l-live on my own.” He moaned in pain as Gerard pounded into him, tugging at the belt around his wrists. 

“Move your fuckin’ hips,” Gerard said, ignoring Frank’s brainless blathering. “Do it! Or I’ll smash your fucking head again!”

Frank let out a long whine and choked on a sob as he slowly started to comply, rolling his hips—gasping in pain as he did—and moving them every direction Gerard guided them. 

Instead of screaming, he just began to sob and gurgle on his own spit and blood as Gerard used him. His body no longer even tried to force Gerard’s length out of him. Knowing that resistance made it hurt worse, Frank succumbed to the realization that he wouldn’t get free and all he could do to spare himself was lie still and let it happen.

Gerard moaned as he felt his orgasm mounting, his balls getting tight as he slammed into Frank’s broken body without mercy. The rougher his thrust became, the more Frank whined in pain and fear. He was scared now, Gerard realized, of what was going to happen to him once it was over. 

The thought of Frank who had been so disobedient and heartless now crying and shaking in fear of him filled Gerard to the brim with pleasure. He spilled his seed into Frank’s body with a low moan, smirking a bit as Frank gagged and started thrashing again. Gerard kept himself buried inside through the aftershocks, digging his nails into Frank’s hips to keep him as close as he could. 

Frank kept making strange, incoherent sounds, like he was trying to speak but unable to form words. He tried pulling his hips away, but Gerard held him still just to remind him that he had no say in what was happening. He held him for another ten seconds before viciously yanking out and shoving Frank forward by his hips, making his cheek and shoulders scrape across the pavement.

Gerard sighed and stared down at his work. Frank’s hips dropped to the ground and he rolled onto his side, curling into a shaking, bloodied ball. He would _definitely_ think twice before treating Gerard so poorly again. 

He tucked himself back into his jeans and then pulled Frank’s back up with no resistance from the smaller man. 

“Here’s what happens now, Frank… Are you listening to me?” Gerard stared at Frank who had his eyes closed tightly, his bloodied mouth moving to form words that only came out as breathy gasps. “Are you listening?” Gerard asked again, grabbing Frank’s hair.

“Yes! Yes, I’m fucking listening! Please don’t it!” 

Gerard yanked his hair until he opened his eyes and showed that pretty fear Gerard was feeding on. Then he let go.

“Here’s what happens. I’m going to stand you up, and I’m going to walk you to my car… Then I’m going to give you a ride home.”

“Home?” Frank stammered, looking surprised and then, all of a sudden, thankful. He nodded his head rapidly so Gerard felt no need to tell him anything else as he stood and pulled Frank onto his feet with him. 

Frank immediately started swaying back and forth, disoriented and dizzy from all the blows to the head. Gerard was thankful he’d parked his car on the street on the other side of the alley. 

( ) ( ) ( )

He laid Frank down in his bed, finished rinsing him off in the tub. He was still unconscious, but Gerard had wrapped some cloth around his head to stop the bleeding around the side and back of his head. His split lips were already becoming dry and sticky, and the abrasions on his hands and shoulders weren’t so severe as to need more than bandaids. 

He felt no need to tie Frank to the headboard or keep him trapped. He was unconscious and sure to be in pain and disoriented when he finally came to. Gerard went to make up a bag of ice for Frank’s head and when he got back, his Darling still hadn’t moved.

Frank stayed unconscious for two hours before he started whimpering and gurgling. As soon as his eye opened, Gerard made sure he was the first thing for Frankie to see.

“Hi there, Honey,” Gerard whispered, running his thumb along Frank’s jawline. 

“Wh-what… Where am I?” Frank stammered, moving his eyes around since turning his head had to hurt him something awful.

“Home.”

“Home?” Frank asked, blinking rapidly a few times. 

“Yes. It’s okay now. I forgive you.”

“F-Forgive?” Frank stammered, suddenly becoming more aware of his surroundings and starting to breathe heavily.

It seemed to all sink in and he tried to sit up, but the pain in his head caused him to fall back down again against the bed and he started sobbing just as hard as he had in the alley. 

“Hush. Don’t make me get a gag.”

Frank kept crying, turning his head back and forth a little causing the ice bag to slip away. He turned to face the wall and then went still, gasping as he laid eyes on the collage of his image that covered the entire wall. 

“This a dream—this is a bad dream,” Frank cried, turning his face away from the sight and bringing his hands protectively to his face. 

“Hush,” Gerard repeated, grabbing the bag of ice and setting it back in place on Frank’s wounded. 

“I need to wake up,” Frank whispered to himself, starting to tremble. “I need to wake up—wake up. Wake up. Wake up.” He kept chanting it over and over while Gerard sat at his side and stroked his cheek with his thumb. 

“Hush. You are awake now. But you’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you? So I don’t have to teach you again?”

Frank continued to cry and let his hands drop back down onto the bed in a helpless gesture of surrender. 

“And just think, in a few more months your hair will be just the way it was and we can put this all behind us. Won’t that be nice?” 

Frank sobbed hard and shook his head. 

“Hush.” 

Gerard pushed the bag of ice back into place and smiled down at his boyfriend, so glad to finally have him home.

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, I actually really like Frank's new hair ): I think it looks cute.


End file.
